in the war he had come to a pass. He would not join himself to
the King, because the King was an evil man, and he liked not evil; yet
he loved not rebellion, and feared for his safety if the King had the
upper hand; but it was still more that he had grown idle and
soft-hearted, and feared the hard faring and brisk jesting of the
camp. Yet even so the thought of the war lay heavy on his heart, and
he wondered how men, whose lives were so short upon the goodly earth,
should find it in their hearts to slay and be slain for such shadowy
things as command and dominion; and he thought he would have made a
song on that thought, but he did not.

And now the fighting had come very near him; and he had let some of
his men go to join the King, but he went not himself, saying that he
was sick, and might not go abroad.

He stood on a day, at this time, by a little wall that enclosed his
garden-ground. It was in the early summer; the trees had put on their
fresh green, and glistened in the still air, and the meadows were deep
with grass, on the top of which seemed to float unnumbered yellow
flowers. In and out the swallows passed, hunting for the flies that
danced above the grass; and he stood, knowing how fair the earth was,
and yet sick at heart, wondering why he could not be as a careless
bird, that hunts its meat all day in the sun, and at evening sings a
song of praise among the thickets.

Over the trees ran the great down with its smooth green sides, as far
as the eye could see. The heat winked on its velvety bluffs, and it
seemed to him, as it had often seemed before, like a great beast lying
there in a dream, with a cloth of green cast over its huge limbs.

He was a tall lean man, somewhat stooping. His face had a certain
beauty; his hair and beard were dark and curling; he had large eyes
that looked sadly out from under heavy lids. His mouth was small, and
had a very sweet smile when he was pleased; but his brow was puckered
together as though he pondered; his hands were thin and delicate, and
there was something almost womanly about his whole air.

Presently he walked into the little lane that bordered his garden. He
heard the sound of wheels coming slowly along the white chalky road;
he waited to look, and saw a sad sight. In the cart was a truss of
hay, and sunk upon it sate a man, his face down on his breast, deadly
pale; as the cart moved, he swayed a little from side to side. The
driver of the cart walked beside,